Time started melting together. The next thing I remember, I was collapsing into my mother’s arms during visitation after the final night of preliminary competition. Within minutes, I was ushered to a back room where a kind hostess brought me a hot tea, a cookie, and a comforting hug.
“Oh honey,” she said. “These are all the things I like when I have a panic attack.”
A panic attack.
A panic attack?
Was that what was happening? I had never felt anything like it before.
About 30 minutes passed with just my mom–who I might’ve given her own panic attack just from how emotional I was–until I eventually rejoined the group. I took photos, spoke to little girls, smiled for the cameras. Then somehow, I woke up the next morning and competed in the finals for Miss New York. And big surprise…I lost. But my best friend won. And in that moment, I felt overwhelming joy for her. I also felt the most physically depleted I’d ever been, after a long week battling not just the mental but also a sinus infection.
After Miss New York week, I made appointments with both my physician and my therapist, trying to make sense of what had happened. Turns out, a big contributor was that I had recently gone off a medication that negatively affected my health. On top of that, I was dealing with personal challenges I’d been pushing off with a “deal with it after Miss New York” mindset. I hadn’t listened to my body in the weeks leading up to competition. I was so focused on the goal that I completely neglected my health. That moment made me question if I even wanted to return to pageants at all.
I’m what some might call a Miss America enthusiast. I’ve competed since I was 13 in the teen program, and let’s just say I’m now 26. I’ve never missed watching a Miss America pageant. My mom was a dressing room mom for Miss Alabama throughout my childhood, and I grew up wanting to be just like the pretty girls on stage. I’ve even been around long enough to have competed during the swimsuit era.
So it was hard–really hard–to imagine my pageant journey ending on such a negative note, with no closure. I knew I wanted to come back, but I had to get over my fear of stepping back on the stage where I last couldn’t breathe.
I waited. And waited. Until the very last day to apply for my local title: Miss Manhattan.
But I did it. I applied. And yes, I was still scared.
To some, it may have looked like just another crown.
To me, it was proof that I had faced a fear head-on–publicly–and refused to let it win.
It’s been almost a year since my first major panic attack. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that mental health doesn’t get fixed overnight.
In the first seven months that followed, I had more minor episodes. Some days, getting out of bed felt impossible. Being the “girl boss” everyone expects me to be? Even harder. I lost friendships–people who didn’t understand what high-functioning anxiety or depression looks like, or who didn’t know how to support someone who isn’t always smiling. That was hard to accept. But I’m also grateful for the people who stayed–my family, my friends–who lifted me up when I was literally on the ground. Who helped me laugh on the days I felt too sad to speak.
I’m writing this because whether I win Miss New York or not, I want to show up authentically. Even though a part of me is scared–scared that a judge might read this and decide I’m unfit for the job–I’m telling my story anyway. Because being a titleholder isn’t just about the next crown. It’s about using your platform to help even one person feel less alone.
Caitlyn McTier is the current Miss Manhattan (NY). You can follow her on her Instagram.
.jpeg)
